


Stranger Tides

by OldEmeraldEye



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011)
Genre: F/M, My First Fanfic, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldEmeraldEye/pseuds/OldEmeraldEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a strange tide that bodes no ill, and a stranger one that bares the Queen Anne’s Revenge towards Whitecapp Bay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Capture

 

She flicked her tail slowly, listening with amusement as one of the not-quite dead sitting in the prow of one of the jolly boats ordered a sailor to 'sing. It attracts them.'

She flinched as he started to tunelessly hum a scale-raising rendition of 'My jolly sailor bold'. Please. Even a tone deaf seagull could've done better. And as if they needed to be attracted. They watched all ships from the moment they entered the mermaid's territory, planning their attack.

She watched idly for a minute as Tamara headed for the middle jolly boat, before waving six after her and seven to the other boats, before moving forward, leading the rest of the hunting pack towards the men holding the long nets in the shallows.

She stayed back in the water, watching out for any complications as her sisters shot into the shallows to claim their prize. She would feed when they were safely away.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a pirate that knew how to swim reach the lighthouse, somehow escaping her sisters, as a man from the shore ran across the walkway and into the lighthouse, dodging hands that ripped through the wood like it was seaweed.

She was just about to collect her next meal when her world exploded, sending her tumbling head over tail into the deep.

When she had finished tumbling (rather painfully, against a rock), she straightened and found herself locking up at a pirate who was watching her sisters fleeing with smug satisfaction. She fought an irrational urge to slap him across the face.

Ignoring the urge, she surfaced to perform one last sweep of the area and was about to follow her sisters when she spotted a splashing by some rubble near the lighthouse, a pirate with a sward scrambling over the rocks and the rest of the pirates closing in with nets. She flipped over and began to swim towards the lighthouse. This could only happen to Si-si. She was the only one young and curious enough not to be focused on the hunt.

She arrived just as the pirate stabbed Si-si in the tail, stumbling backwards as she popped out of the water.

With a low hiss, she lunched herself out of the water and sent him flying. She pulled the sward out of Si's tail as carefully as possible, wincing when she flinched.

She glanced up, eyes widening, as she shoved Si in the direction of the open water from where she was sitting stunned. The first time's always the hardest. Hissing 'go' at her to snap her out of her stupor, she was turning to follow her when she felt the net drape over her. Damn sneaky pirates. She whirled to face the pirates, tangling and tightening the net around her as she did so. One of the not-quite dead had a firm grip on the net, but she struggled anyway. Or started to, when she caught sight of a figure striding towards her. Her hand automatically drifted up to her cheek as she hissed a word.

 _"You_."


	2. Chapter 2

 

The sword (cold, cursed, unnatural sharpness) swung like a lead rope until it hung inches from her face. She ignored it, glaring at the man wielding it. How _dare_ he?

"Good work, sailor."

Even after all these years, he has not changed. No wonder she had wanted to slap him.

The net tightens, bringing her back to herself, and his spell is broken. It seems the passing of the years has not increased his intellect, as if time herself would regard him with her favor. Why is he here, of all the forsaken places?

"Only a fool would hunt a mermaid, Edward Teach, and I do not recollect you for a fool."

He pays no mind to her words, turning to the ma – woman beside him.

"You know her, father?"

Father? Kraken take him, he had had an – had a daughter?

The pirate – Runner – waded up as she slowly shifted backwards. If she could get to the deeper water they could never hope to contain her.

It was a vain hope. A man such as Edward Teach had been would never leave a prize such as a mermaid unattended - She was hauled out of the water and bundled into a transparent cage before she had made a foot’s distance.

She twisted, bend half and half again as the lid was slammed on her, net, bound and all. Was she really that terrifying? The men avoided her gaze as it swept their ranks. Poor ignorant fools. The only place she would consider eating them was thirty feet deep, where the water masked their sent. The girl – woman – _daughter_ – met her stare defiantly. Spanish blood, perhaps? She never had been good at generalizing humans into anything more than food and not-food. Eyes drifting onwards, she met his back.

‘We head for a protected cove.’

No cove could protect him from her ire, if only she could break free of these Calisto - cursed ropes. She slammed into the glass witch a hiss as the not - quite - de – was that the Quartermaster?

He turned, eyes catching hers again, something flashing and gone again as he picked his way around the sand splattered corpses of her sisters.

"Now."

What had he _done_?

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

They store her in the hold, her tail wedged between barrels of fish. It’s either an ironic or calculated statement of her position aboard ship. Knowing the Captain of this cursed ship, it’s both.

The crewmen linger, throng the hatchway, one going so far as to polish the barrel's hoops. The others make every excuse to chance by. It seems that salted fish is in high demand.

Her threats have no mark on them, and they are soon against the glass, the boy nearest of all, smearing the mist of his breath . The Quatermaster approaches, and she knows him only by his step, because when he appears in the small box of blue it’s the same unfamiliar, dead face. They disperse, quiet as seals in shark waters.

Eventually, he leaves as well,and she is left alone with the fish and the muffled slap of waves against the hull. She likes fish. Not salted, she has no taste for it, but fresh, all silver scales and fragile bones...

 

She is hungry, has not eaten more than minnow for days, and yet she is forced to ignore the pull, her deep seated need to take one of these two legged meals into the deep with her. She will eat when she leaves this cage - the sleeping guard will make an easy catch.

When she gets out. Any wave length now.The wood is strong, the workmanship solid. Her compliments to the craftsman. _If_ and _when_ she comes across him.

 

The chinks of light fade, here, gone and here again as her watchdog settles in for the night. She has made nary a mark on her confines. No matter. Now is the time for waiting. The waves lull the ship into a dream state. If not for the glass, she could be adrift in the currents...

If not for the net, she would be.

The timbers creak. Her guard, if that he could be called, splits the air with his growling. Faintly, the slap of rope at the mast. Again, the wood groans.

"You are a mermaid."

Daughter. Where did you come from?

"How do you know my father?"

Demanding little thing, isn’t she.

"I was beginning to believe you wouldn’t come."

"What? What did you say?"

Did she speak too lowly? Dear oh dear. Daughter will just have to come closer, won't she?

The glass is cool - cold against her skin.

Pause. Nothing but the waves, their breathing, and snoring.

She will silence him at the first opportunity she finds.

Her head is tilted, eyes dark like ... like nothing beneath the waves. Interesting. She has her fathers hair, curls and all. No flames.

She slaps the glass again to get her point across.

She gets the idea, fumbles at the lock until she puts the lantern down. Lifts the lid.

She barely tastes the difference in the air ( and there is a difference, of salt and sweat and no one could say it’s fresh but it’s newer) before there’s metal at her collarbone, cold, muted, _sharp_ metal, and a _very_ familiar smirk on the face looking down at her.

"I’m not making it that easy."

Her? Escape? Where would she go?

Her mute appeal doesn’t work. Her wrist is bound, not once but twice, before the blade is moved and she settles back against, nearly sending her lantern to the floor. She snatches it up before it hits deck.

So, not raised aboard a ship? Not a surprise.

"Now, how do you know my father?"

"Your father knows many women."

Why wouldn’t she know him? Work it out.

"You’re a mermaid."

Denial? No, not quite. Confusion, perhaps.

Confusion she can work with.

"Only a fool seeks to hunt mermaids. Why would he?"

"You do not think that he is foolish?"

He hunted mermaids. Burned and herd and killed _her_ people. _That_ is foolish in the extreme. But not he. Many things, but not a fool.

"Why."

She stands, moves away. Takes the light with her.

She too rises, to follow, but is brought short by the rope.

A question for a question. An answer for an answer. Is that not how it is done?

She pauses at the base of the stairs, alone in her own little pool of light.

"There is a ... prophecy."

A bad one, is the lengths taken are any indication. No matter of hers, only that it concerns her.

"What is your name?"

She pauses her assent.

"It is customary, is it not?"

A laugh. She leaves as quietly as she appears, leaving only darkness.

Clever girl. An answer for an answer. Names have power.

Then again now, this ...Teach, would it be? She sailed with this crew, by choice by her actions. Seemed to care for the Captain. More idealistic than smart, then, but still ... interesting.

And useful too.

 

 


End file.
